Choir Boy
by Cocoasuma
Summary: When Dean Winchester was little, his mother used to sing him to sleep. After the house fire of 1994, Dean was never sung to sleep again, until on Christmas Eve, twelve years later. While Dean is sitting in church, sulking, a boy from the choir steps forward to do a solo. Dean hasn't heard such a relaxing voice since his mother's death, and now he's got to find out who this boy is.
1. Chapter 1

**So I'm just waiting for someone to inform me that, "Mary sang "Hey Jude" to Sam and Dean!" First of all, I know that. Secondly, this is and AU. So I know a lot of you might be under the Impression that a prologue isn't worth reading, but trust me, READ IT! It was written for a good reason. **

**So this is the beginning of a Story I've been working on for about a month. Some of you may have read "The Holy Ghost was Moving You" and I would just like to take a moment to say, yes that was from this. If you haven't read this then I would suggest reading it. It isn't crucial to the story. It's just a collection of one shots from this story. Since this is a Destiel fic there are indeed going to be sex scenes in the chapters later to come, and in this, they are from Dean's POV. In Holy Ghost they are from Castiels. **

**For those of you who are worried this might end up abandoned I say "Never Fear my Friends." I've got good outline going so far. So expect me to update about every other week. I may or may not have the first chapter out sooner just because this is a prologue of sorts but most likely not.**

July 19th 1994 Lawrence, Kansas

Back and forth, Mary Winchester rocked her baby boy, as she sang softly under her breath.

_"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,"_

The baby boy's hands tightened around the collar of her blouse, his eyelids drooping from the relaxing motion.

_"You make me happy when skies are grey,"_

Slowly, Mary makes her way across the nursery, still rocking her baby ever so slightly.

_"You'll never know dear, how much I love you,"_

She places a kiss to the top of his head as his eyes fall shut.

_"Please don't take your sunshine away."_

Mary leans over and gently lays her boy down in his crib.

"Good night, Sammy," Her whisper is barely audible as she slowly backs away from the crib. Everything is silent. A small click and the last remaining light in the room, flickers off. Turning to the door she see's a small figure peeking out from behind the doorway. He's gone just as quickly as he was there. Mary can hear the soft thumping of socked feet against carpet, as her four-year old, Dean runs back to his bedroom.

Leaving the door slightly askew, Mary walks into her oldest son's room.

"Dean." The boy is lying in bed with his covers pulled up over his head. He's pretending to sleep. Mary makes her way over to her son's bed. She pulls the covers off him and sits down, pulling her son towards her.

"What's up little guy?"

"I can't sleep." Dean's hair is sticking up everywhere. His green eyes look almost black in the dark room.

"Do you want me to sing to you?" the little boy just nods and Mary pulls him close.

_"The other night dear,_

_As I lay sleeping,_

_I dreamt I had you in my arms,"_

Dean snuggled in closer burying his face in his mother's blonde hair. He loved it when she sang. It made the monster in the dark room dissolve. There was a strong comfort in her arms. The warm embrace lulled him into a relaxed state.

_"When I awoke dear,_

_I was mistaken,_

_So I hung my head and cried._

_You are my sunshine,_

_My only sunshine._

_You make me happy when skies are grey._

_You'll never know dear,_

_How much I love you,_

_Please don't take your sunshine away."_

Mary pulled the sheets up to her sleeping boy's neck and kissed his forehead.

"Don't you think he's gettin' too old for this?" The gruff voice of John Winchester said from the doorway.

"Shhh. He's sleeping." Mary turned to her husband. "No one is too old for a mother's love." She walked into his arms and hugged him around the waist, kissing his stubbly chin.

"Mary, this is just like the nightlight thing. Sooner or later he'll have to learn how to sleep without you singing to him. You can't keep babyin' him." John said leading his wife out of the room.

"Oh the day that I don't need to sing him to sleep will come when he's ready for it, but until then, just let him enjoy it." John pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead and the two walked to their bedroom leaving dean's door askew.

October 5th, 1994 Lawrence, Kansas

"DEAN! GET UP!" John Winchester yelled running into Dean's room with his youngest son wrapped in his arms. Dean slowly sat up trying to process what was happening before his arm was being yanked hard, pulling him out of bed. He was being pulled out of his room. In the hall he could see the source of his dad's panic. Bright orange and red flames licked out from every direction, consuming the hallway. Before he even had time to process what was happening, Dean was being lifted by his dad as he ran down the hallway to the stairs. The little boy buried his face into his dad's chest trying to escape the thick air and heat. Sammy was screaming next to him as he father tore down the stairs. Soon Dean was hit with a sudden coldness. He pulled himself away from his father's chest. John dropped dean onto the front yard and shoved Sam into his arms.

"Protect your brother!" John commanded before running back into the house. Dean watched as flames started to pour out of the windows on the top floor. Soon enough the entire left side of the house was engulfed in flames. Sam continued to cry and scream, and soon Dean couldn't hold on anymore. The tears started streaming down his face. Dean gripped Sammy tightly and cried. It seemed like a lifetime before he saw his father run out of the flames. His mother was thrown over his shoulder. As soon as John was on the lawn he laid his wife down on the grass. They were both covered in soot. She wasn't breathing. Running to his father's side, Dean saw his mother. All the hair on the right side of her head had been singed and her face was messed with red and black. Dean couldn't tell skin from soot. Her white nightgown was now splotched with grey and black. She wasn't breathing.

"Dean," He looked down at his father. He was shaking as he held his wife in his arms. "Go wake up the neighbor."

"Dad is mom alr-"

"GO!" John shouted at his son. He didn't want to think about anything right now. His wife was lying dead in his arms. He held onto her as the neighbor woman ran outside with Dean and Sam. He held onto her as the fire truck and police arrived. And he didn't let go of her until the paramedics had to forcibly remove him from her. After that, Dean and Sam took her place in his arms. John wanted to tell them it would be alright, but Dean knew. He was crying. Sam had fallen asleep in Dean's arms but Dean cried as his father held him. John was lost that night. He was confused and scared and didn't know what was going to happen tomorrow. A part of him didn't want the sun to rise. Maybe if it stayed dark he would just wake up in his bed the next day with his wife next to him. He knew that wasn't going to happen though.

That night the Winchester family stayed in the police station. John put his youngest to bed and Dean crawled into the small bed on the other side. Neither of them slept that night and for the first time, John wished Mary was here to sing to them.

**So yea I hope you enjoyed it. Well actually I hope you were clutching your seat gripped with sadness. I figured I wouldn't bullshit around. I played it Supernatural style and started it off sad, because deep down, all you SPN fans must be masochistic. The show literally starts with Mary stuck to a ceiling engulfed in flames, yet you continued watching. **

**If there were any errors then I would like to take this time to apologize. My spelling has always been pretty bad. Please Review and Follow.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So yes I realize this was a few days late but I have to say, I spent an entire week in a hospital waiting room. My grandpa had major heart surgery so I was in the ICU with my mother who was trying to hold herself together. My grandpa lived. yay! Now if I had a laptop then this chapter would have been out in a heartbeat but I had to wait until I got home so I could use my desktop. So I'm pretty satisfied with this. I rewrote it like five times before getting it right.**

_Eleven Years Later_

_Wednesday, December 24th, 2004_

The snow was blowing hard in Lawrence that night, chilling everything and everyone unlucky enough to be caught in it. Some families were nestled around a fire that night, choosing to stay home. Others were gathered around the dinner table eating a large holiday meal. But most of the families in Lawrence Kansas, were sitting in the town's church listening to Father Novak's Christmas Eve Mass. The three Winchester boys were among this group of people, wedged uncomfortably into a pew.

John sat on the end of the pew with an irritated look on his face. Neither Dean nor Sam could tell if it was left over from the argument earlier or if he was just bored of the mass. Dean sat opposite slouched in his seat, waiting for the service to end and Sam was stuck in the middle of the two bow-legged men. He sat uncomfortably with his knees being forced to together by his father and brother's widely spread legs. Together they sat as the Father droned on and on.

_1 hour earlier_

_"Dean, your clothes are still on the couch. Why aren't you dressed yet?"_

_"Because I'm not going."_

_Sam Winchester glared at his older brother's response as if it were the bane of his existence. Dean returned that glare without any problem._

_It was Christmas Eve and the Winchester household was about to become the main battlefield of World War III. So Dean prepared himself for the fight as his younger brother cleared the table of his homework and exited the room just in time to see his father storm in._

_"Dean this isn't a choice." John gave his oldest a stern look, which his oldest promptly rolled his eyes and scoffed at._

_"Why do we have to go to church?"_

_"Because it's Christmas Eve."_

_The Winchesters were not known for a devout lifestyle. The three boys cursed and swore more than sailors. They didn't pray before meals, and they only went to church on Easter Sunday and Christmas Eve. They probably wouldn't even go to church on those days if it hadn't been for Mary. Before her death the boys woke up early each Sunday and put on their best to go sit in church. Dean would usually fall asleep back then and John would start to doze off too, but Mary always said, "Ain't nothing like the grace of nice cold holy water to wake the Christian in all of us." Air-go if both of the boys were out cold she saw no problem in standing up in the middle of a service to grab the bowl of holy water from the entrance and promptly pour it out on both of her boy's heads._

_"We didn't have to go to church when we were younger." Dean spat angrily._

_"We used to go to church every Sunday with your mother." Both John and Dean could see where this argument was headed but they were both too stubborn to let up. Soon enough one of them would say something that they would regret._

_After Mary's death, John stopped going to church. He stopped praying, and stopped eating. He nearly stopped living. He probably would still be a wreck if it hadn't been for Bobby and the Novaks. Bobby, a life long friend had convinced John to sell the empty lot where their house had been. The recovering family moved across town into a smaller one story, down the street from the Novaks: A religious family in the town. Jimmy Novak, more commonly called , Father Novak, and his wife Claire, had welcomed John into the churches tightly knit community._

_"Well mom's not here!" And the winner of the regret prize goes to, Dean Winchester._

_The entire house stilled. That was the last straw for John. Dean had crossed a line that had been drawn many years ago, and he knew it._

None of them wanted to be here, but John had made a promise to Jimmy that the Winchesters would make an appearance during the holidays. It was the least they could do after all the financial help, the church had provided for them. Not only did they offer their prayers, but Jimmy and his wife had started a fundraiser at the church for the Winchesters. It had helped them through a pretty rough patch, before John started work as a contractor.

John was thankful for the help, Dean however could care less about being thankful. He didn't like the Novak family. In the ten years that they had lived by the Novak family, he had not had one good experience with Father Novak. The man was an ass. His entire family was cut off from the rest of the town. The only time anyone ever saw a Novak was if they were in the church. All of their kids attended the town's private school and although his dad assured him that the Novak's had a son his age, he hadn't seen one trace of this boy anywhere. In fact the only time he had ever seen one of their kids, was if they were in their van, driving past the Winchester's house to get to the church or school. The van was always packed full. Father Novak in the drivers seat with his wife sitting shotgun. Then in the back seats, through the tinted car windows he could see four heads. The Novak family seemed like caring people, but in actuality, Dean thought they were just a bunch of shut-in religious nut jobs that never went anywhere but their house and their church.

So when in church Dean had no qualms about showing just how much he didn't want to be there and this fight had only worsened his mood.

He sat grumbling for a while before Sam gave him a sharp pinch and told his to shut up. He returned the favor and pinched Sam's elbow. After that the boys were in a fidget match until John was at the end of his rope. He leaned down over Sam's head so that neither of the boys would miss what he had to say. his voice was low but the boys got the point and settled down. After that Dean returned to sulking as father Novak voice droned on and on in the background.

Tt felt like hours had passed but really it had only been about twenty minutes when a loud, sharp noise rose above the church sound system. The pitch was deafening for a moment causing everyone to flinch and turn their attention to the choir. A microphone had just been turned on and holy hell, Dean could have swore that Satan had just tried to sing. Why did microphones make that noise anyway?

Dean glared at the choir section as they shuffled making a path for a boy in the third row to make his way down. His head was down letting everyone get a full view of his ruffled black bed head. His eyes didn't leave the floor until he reached the microphone. Dean could see two little blue dots surveying the crowded church as the boy looked up. The blue disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared as the boys eyes snapped shut.

"Shy boy huh" Dean thought to himself.

One slow note rang out from the organ and another and another until a slow melody was formed. The boy leaned in close to the mic as he stood slightly pigeon-toed. A sharp intake of breath rang out over the speakers followed by a dark and smooth alto voice.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

You make me happy when skies are grey.

You'll never know dear how much I love you

Please don't take your sunshine away."

The melody was different from any way Dean had ever heard the song. It was slow and dark. The word seemed desperate. It captivated him fully.

"The other night dear as I lay sleeping,

I dreamt I held you in my arms.

When I awoke dear I was mistaken.

So I hung my head and cried."

The song was being sung slower than Mary had sang it. The lyrics were the same but the song itself seemed completely different. Dean watched and listened as the boys eyes opened slowly scanning the church before matching Deans gaze. They held the stare as the song continued.

"I'll always love you and make you happy."

It was like a promise.

"If you will only do the same.

But if you leave me and love another.

You'll regret it all some day."

The boys eyes shut once again and Dean leaned back in his pew and exhales. He hadn't even realized that he had been holding his breath until then.

"You are my sunshine my only sunshine.

You make me happy when skies are grey

You'll never know dear how much I love you.

Please don't take your sunshine away".

Dean relaxed his jaw and shoulders as the organ died out. And the boy's voice softened.

"In all my dreams dear

you seem to leave me.

When I awake my poor heart pains.

So when you come back and make me happy."

The organ stated up powerfully and the boy's voice crescendoed for the last line

"I'll forgive you and take all the blame."

Dean could feel his eyelids begin to droop. Drowsy washed over him as he listened to the last refrain in a heavy mood.

"You are my sunshine

My only sunshine."

The last few lines of the song were muffled as Dean's eyes shut. He could feel his entire body slipping away into the darkness of sleep.

He slept soundly through the end of the service before a hard nudge into his side woke him.

"Ow Sammy. What the hell."

His brother ignored him "You're lucky dad didn't catch you sleeping in church. He would have kicked your ass."

"Whatever." Dean glanced around. The church was nearly empty now. "Where is he anyway?"

Sam motioned to the altar. "Talking to Father Novak about something. He told us to wait here."

So the boys waited and waited and finally John waltzed back over to them with a smile on his face as if the fight earlier hadn't happened at all. He always looked happy after talking to Father Novak. It pissed Dean off, but he couldn't stay angry for long when his father mentioned something that Dean had completely forgotten about.

"Come on boys. Let's go home and get you two to bed. It's Christmas tomorrow."

**Funny thing. When I was checking this chapter, I looked at my outline to seen the date of the next chapter and realized, I forgot to write Christmas Never fear I have added it in, but it might end up being pretty short. The third chapter however won't be short and since my Grandpa is all fine and dandy now, the next chapters should be out on time.**


	3. Chapter 3

**So I think this might just be the shortest chapter I've posted and I would like to apologize. Certain issues in my personal life kept me from working on this. I then found it particularity difficult to write such a heart warming scene. So finally after getting myself in the mood I decided I would publish this one asap.**

Christmas passed with normality. The morning had passed by relatively quickly. After a fair amount of presents and eight hundred pictures of the boys tearing through wrapping paper on the living room floor, the family parted ways to tinker with their presents. Both Sam and Dean were far too old for toys, so John had just asked the boys what they wanted. Sam had asked for World of Warcraft, claiming that it was "just a video game". Little did John realize that if it were up to Sam, no one would see him until college as he wasted his childhood on "just a video game." Dean had just asked for new guitar strings, and an ipod, trying to stay fairly modest. They had received a few gifts from relatives, mostly clothing or money. Sam had received one terrible looking Christmas sweater from their aunt Irma, and Dean had nearly cried laughing until he opened his own gift from her to see that he had received a matching set of mittens, hat, and scarf that were just as, if not more, atrocious as Sam's sweater. John just laughed and took a picture of the discontent faces of his sons, knit-wear in hand.

The boys had saved up some money and gotten their dad a new set of steak knives. They weren't really sure if he needed them. It's the thought that counts or at least that what John seemed to think as a grin split across his face. A snow blower would have been a lot more handy, but the boys were on a bit of a tight budget.

In his room, Dean mindlessly plucked at his guitar strings, tuning them as needed. Sam had taken control of the computer so he would have to wait to work on his ipod. Dean was a fair guitar player. He could play a lot of songs, but he usually enjoyed messing around with his guitar until he found a melody that he liked. He had filled three entire notebooks with everything from riffs to lyrics to full-out songs that he had written. Nobody knew about them though, not even Sam knew about Dean's lyrics. He didn't think any of them were particularly good enough to show anybody. Hell he would be embarrassed if anyone found them.

After his guitar was tuned properly, Dean slid one of his notebooks out from underneath his mattress and flipped through it, looking for a song to play. He spent the rest of the afternoon in his bedroom playing random songs out of his notebook, before putting his guitar away and pulling out a pencil to work on lyrics. He had a random idea floating around in his head and decided it was time to try to put it on paper.

When Uncle Bobby arrived, bearing gifts, the sun had already set and the snow was starting to fall. Uncle Bobby wasn't really related to any Winchesters. He was an old friend of John's. The two had known each other since before the boys were even born. Dean had always liked uncle Bobby. He was a large man, with a scruffy beard and a warm heart. He had been there for the boys when John wasn't at his most fatherly.

"Now wait just a sec. I have to grab the camera." John said rushing out of the living room where everyone was getting comfortable with their gifts. Uncle Bobby just rolled his eyes.

When John returned to the room with his camera in hand and began snapping pictures as the boys ripped the brightly colored paper off the boxes. Sammy was overjoyed to receive a Barnes and Nobles gift card.

"For when that new Harry Potter book comes out." Bobby murmured as Sam's arms wrapped around him for a hug of thanks.

Dean's box was a lot smaller and as he tore off the paper, worry set in. It looked like a jewelry box. Dean wasn't much for jewelry. The only piece of jewelry he owned and ever planned on owning, was a necklace with some sort of Hindu demon on it. A little iron head with horns and shit was bad ass enough for him to rock, but he didn't make a habit out of accessorizing. So he nervously removed the lid.

To his surprise it wasn't jewelry but rather a small metal disk a little bigger than his palm.

"Um, gee, thanks Bobby." Dean forced a smile and held it up for his dad to take picture.

"You don't even know what that is, do you, idjit?" Idjit was one of Uncle Bobby's favorite words.

The look on Dean's face must have gave him away because soon enough, John was coming to his rescue.

"It's a decal, Dean." He gave his father a puzzled look, hoping for more of an explanation.

"You know. Like a decal that goes on the steering wheel of a certain 67 Chevy Impala." John laughed as he continued to snap pictures, each one capturing the growing realization on his son's face.

"Oh no way. No way. You mean we finally got the last piece for the Impala?"

There comes a time in everyone's life where they are not sure if they will ever be this happy about something ever again. Little did Dean Winchester know of the coming triumphs and tribulations in his life, so for the moment, he was naively trapped in the thought that this was going to be the happiest moment of his life. Here on Christmas, surrounded by family and friends, holding the last piece for the classic car his father and him had been working on for years. He did not give one thought to the boy from last night, or the feeling that had washed over him. He was too caught up in the moment. Yes he was very happy, but he had barely begun to scratch at the surface of true happiness.

**There it is. Please review and follow.**


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